Once a month, author Dane Huckelbridge gives us a nourishing dose of useful (for the most part) knowledge. In today's post, he tackles hangover cures from around the world.
Who hasn’t slapped the alarm clock, groaned with agony, and reached for the sweet relief of the aspirin? Well, no doubt there are teetotalers out there who seldom experience the curse of the drinking class, but for many of us, an exceptionally fun night does occasionally lead to the serious medical condition that most Western doctors have dubbed “the worst #@$%-ing hangover ever.” There are the familiar remedies—the ibuprofen, the Bloody Mary, the infamous cup o’ Joe—but surely other treatment options exist, no? On a recent trip to Old Montreal, I was fortunate enough to sample (following a rather long eve of being over-served) the local delicacy called "poutine"—a curious blend of fries, gravy, and cheese curds. Intrigued by its efficacy, I decided to see what passes in other countries as preventative medicine for that other kind of "morning sickness." Here are just a few that you may or may not want to try.
The beer is light and the heat is heavy—a dangerous combination that can lead to throbbing headaches and upset stomachs. The best way to soothe both? With a hearty bowl of chicken, yucca, and corn soup called "Sancocho."
What do nomadic herdsmen take after a long night of pounding the fermented mare’s milk known as “Airag”? Pickled sheep eyes in tomato juice. Plop, plop, fizz, fizz sounds just about right.
Vodka, Vodka, everywhere, and not a drop to . . . well, there’s plenty to drink if you don’t mind clear spirits. But when the shots keep coming, keep some cold pickle juice handy. Chugging a jar or two should do the trick.
According to Magyar legend, an especially stinging hangover can be successfully treated with a glass of brandy and sparrow droppings. Definitely something worth “tweeting” about.
No, you can’t milk a tiger. By that doesn’t stop Peruvians from downing a glass of “leche de tigre” when they’ve had one Pisco Sour too many. It’s the leftover juice from ceviche mixed with a restorative shot of your favorite spirit.
When the sake's swigged a little too carelessly, you might need to mask the effects the next morning. Specifically, with a sake-soaked surgical mask. Just make sure you’re not actually scheduled to perform a transplant.
After a long summer night spent on the town with Señor Rum, it’s only natural to want to freshen up. But one old Boricua cure involves ditching the deodorant and rubbing half a lemon in the armpit of your drinking arm. Never get hungover—or scurvy—again.